Slumber On, Baby Dear
by shesasurvivor
Summary: An outtake for my Civil War/Reconstruction AU, A House United. Katniss and Peeta and their daughter shortly after her birth. Written for Fandom4LLS 2015.


It's been ages since I've written anything for the A House United universe! It was good to visit it again, and this was a piece I've been meaning to write since I finished the (main) story. This was written for Fandom4LLS, so some of you might have read this already. If not, enjoy!

* * *

 _In this heart, torn with grief,_

 _Lies a danting love for thee_

 _-Slumber On, Baby Dear,_ old Civil War lullaby

"Three weeks," Peeta says as he pulls back the blankets and scoots in next to me. "Can you believe it's been three weeks already?"

"No," I say. In my arms, the bundle of tightly bound blankets squirms. Peeta stares longingly at her until I give in. "Would you like to hold her?" I ask.

"Yes," he smiles. "If you don't mind."

"She's your daughter too, isn't she?" I ask as I hand her over to her eager father. He doesn't even bother to respond, immediately becoming lost in her tiny face. Her small blue eyes flutter open when she feels the transfer, but she only makes a gurgling noise as she settles into Peeta's arms. Then it's quiet as I watch Peeta watching her.

"She looks like you," he says after a while. He manages to tear his eyes away so he can turn and smile at me.

"She has your eyes," I say.

"Maybe," he says. "But everything else is you."

I say nothing, but I don't agree. It's true, she has dark hair like I do, but I can already tell that it's going to be a few shades lighter than mine. And she doesn't have my olive skin. It's too early to tell which one of us she'll take after as she'll get older, though. She could look like either Peeta or me.

"What are you thinking? Peeta asks, looking at me curiously.

"Nothing really," I shake my head. "I was just wondering what she's going to look like when she's grown up."

The side of Peeta's mouth curves up into a lopsided grin. "I'm sure she'll be as beautiful as her Mama," he says. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he adds, "And maybe she'll even have her accent."

I raise a brow. "My accent? What do you mean?"

"You know," he says.

"No," I say. And I really don't.

He looks a little helpless for a moment. "Just.. the way you talk because you're from the South. It's different."

"It is not!"

He lets out a sigh. "I'm not saying it's bad, Katniss- "

"I know it's not bad! Because I don't talk funny!"

"Kat- "

" _You_ talk funny!"

He looks taken aback, but then his shocked expression turns to one of amusement. "All right. Fair enough," he agrees. "All I'm saying is that I like the way you speak. It's different than from where I come from. And I think it's cute."

"Cute?" I give him a look.

"Yes. More than cute, even." That mischievous glint is back in his eyes. "Let's just say I had more than one fantasy about you because of it."

I feel my cheeks burn. "In front of your daughter?"

He laughs. "You're right. We have to set a good example for her." Then he falls quiet for quite some time as he sits and studies her. After a while, he speaks again. But this time his voice is more serious. "She really changed things for us, didn't she?"

"Yes," I agree. "They were bound to change."

"That's true," he admits. "But you don't fully understand how much a baby is going to change things until they're here, do you?"

"I suppose not," I say. "Why'd you bring this up?"

"No reason," he says. "I was just thinking. You said Madge visited this afternoon, didn't you?"

"Yes." Madge had paid her first visit since the baby was born. Despite her marriage to Gale, she had remained a loyal friend, even going so far as to call upon me periodically throughout my pregnancy. But today was the first time she met my daughter.

"Somehow," Peeta continues, "nothing anyone else says or does matters now that she's here. I mean, it didn't before-you know I never cared what anyone else thought about our union. But it's even less important now that there's a child to protect."

"Even when they talk about it with their funny accents?" I ask innocently.

Peeta lets out a little laugh. "Even when they talk with their accents," he says, and leans over, carefully balancing the baby as he does so, to plant a kiss on my forehead.

Now it's my turn to sit quietly, lost in thought, while I watch my child as she sleeps securely in Peeta's arms. "You know," I begin slowly, "I never really thought of myself as a mother."

Peeta looks at me, surprised. "Really?"

"Yes," I nod. "It was certainly expected of me, and it was always assumed it would happen. At least, it was while I was growing up. When I didn't have the suitors the other girls had, though, I think even Mama began to doubt it."

Now Peeta studies me. "But that's not why you never saw yourself as a mother." It's not a question. It's an observation.

"No," I admit.

"So why didn't you?"

Now that is a question that I'm not sure I could ever fully explain. Maybe it was because I had always held such unladylike interests growing up. Or maybe it was because I knew firsthand how much it hurts to lose someone you love more than your own life. "I don't know," I say. "I guess I just never thought I was all that maternal."

"Katniss," Peeta says in a steady voice. "You're the most maternal person I know."

I look down at my hands. "Thank you," I mumble.

"I mean it," he says. "Look at the lengths you went to so you could provide for your mother and sister when your world was falling apart. And how well you took care of me, once you decided you loved me. Before that, even."

I say nothing. Finally, securing the baby in one arm, Peeta places a hand gently under my chin and guides my face so I'm forced to make eye contact with him. "You're going to make a wonderful mother. You already are." He gives me a kiss.

"Thank you," I say softly.

He lets out a chuckle. "There's nothing to thank me for. It's the truth." Then his entire demeanor lightens as he glances to his side. He hands the baby back to me. "I'm going to stoke the fire before we go to bed." He gives me a smirk. "Don't get any ideas, Mrs. Mellark. Your daughter is present."

I roll my eyes, but I grin in spite of myself. While he stirs up the embers, I crawl out of the bed myself and place our baby in the cradle sitting across the room. I tuck the blankets tightly around her and give her a kiss goodnight. Or at least until her midnight feeding. Hopefully she'll let me sleep until then; she's already asleep herself. For a moment, I just stand there and watch her. She's so small and helpless. Peeta is right about her needing our protection. And maybe I never saw myself as a mother before, but now I know that there is nothing in the world more important to me than taking care of this tiny being.

Eventually I force myself away, and join Peeta back in the bed. He looks at me like he knows exactly what I was thinking, which, I realize, he probably does. As I curl up next to him, he blows the candle out, then settles in with me. In the glowing firelight that softly illuminates the room, he gathers me in his arms and kisses me again. "You're a wonderful mother, you know," he whispers.

I give him a small smile. "Thank you."

"And if you think you might like to be a wonderful mother twice… well, I think we should at least practice making another one as soon as you're up for it."

I don't even try to hold back my laugh.


End file.
